CONSTANTINOPLE AND THE GOLDEN HORN CROSSED BY THE GALATA BRIDGE, WITH STAMBOUL IN THE FOREGROUND. THE YOUNG TURKS PRESENTED THIS AS THE FIRST SNAP OF THEIR OFFICIAL CAMERA. LATER THEY "DEDICATED" THE BRIDGE BY HANGING THE FIRST BATCH OF MURDERERS ON IT
Most of these things, and many more, were the gifts of King Charles V., King Ferdinand, Queen Isabella and others, with a Sultan or two thrown in for good measure. All this grandeur is spread over 124,000 square feet, exceeded only a little by St. Peter's in Rome.
In the plethora of good things I had almost forgotten to mention the Tomb of Columbus, a finely carved sarcophagus in solid bronze. Heroic, allegorical figures support it and it is an imposing coffin in every respect.
The size of this great Cathedral is three hundred and eighty by two hundred and fifty feet, and a week might be spent in seeking out the vast treasures which run the gamut of art and money from its top round to the bottom. There are many other churches here, but to try to write of them after attempting to describe the Cathedral would be like an introduction to Tom Thumb after having spent the day with Chang, the Chinese giant. However, we can hardly overlook the Alcazar, which "cuts" considerable "ice," even in this hot climate. It is the palace of the late Moorish kings, containing the famous Court of the Maidens and the Hall of the Ambassadors. It cost a good many millions of pesetas to erect its front elevations, not to speak of its elaborate interior decorations, although the workmen only received two pence per day, and they had a local "blue card" union at that.
The "Order of the Corks," both men and women, all went to see a grand series of Spanish dances at the theatre, got up for their delectation and amusement. No band of enthusiastic pilgrims ever started in such high feather to see a dramatic and terpsichorean feast as did we. There was an expression of mystery and expectancy on every face. Mary Garden and all she does would be a mere flea bite to what we should see of pure and simple naughtiness. But alack and alas for our blasted hopes and the human weakness that had been worked on by the adroit press agent! The show was a "fake:" there was nothing naughty about it—and very little that was nice. No refrigerating plant ever contained a freezing room so dank, cold and gloomy as that theatre! After the first act, the ladies—Heaven help them!—put on their furs; in the second, an odd man or two began to sneak out, and by the time the curtain rose on the last act there was hardly a soul in the house! The weary "Corkonians" wended their way to the hotels in disconsolate groups, and the simple but convincing words, "Stung again!" hung on every lip as we toddled up the dark stairs to our beds, wiser but sadder men. There may be allurements in Andalusian dancing—but if there are, we certainly did not see them.
In the cold, gray dawn of the next morning we gathered up our belongings, and after an early breakfast, reinforced by another "management" basket lunch, we made for the train. An all-day's ride to Granada was before us. You see, you couldn't get anything to eat at a Spanish station but garlic, onions and chocolate, so we had to prepare for the worst. "The worst" came all right, in the sanitary arrangements at the stations (for there were none on the trains), but we justly blamed all our troubles on Spain and not on the management of the trip. It all passed, however, like a summer cloud when we landed in time for a late dinner at Granada. Dinner over we went out and saw some of the gay life of this famous city. The local color was there—in fact, it was highly colored; and as for "atmosphere," why, the air was full of it! The ladies squirmed a little, but the men stood nobly by their guns till the last candle had been snuffed out; and so we went to bed, after arranging to give a full day to the Alhambra next morning, and slept the sleep of the just.
GRANADA
Morning came as usual with the rising sun, and we set out, twenty-five to a guide. I transmitted Mark Twain's name of "Billfinger" to our man, and he was very much pleased by this notable mark of distinction; in fact, he felt that he had to speak and act up to his title; but his voice gave out in the second round, and he had to whisper his historical jokes and quips about the harems to a "Cork" from Chicago, who repeated them in a louder tone to the audience. This man was a human calliope, and had the voice of an African lion when out of meat. His trained organ was so ear-piercing that much to "Billfinger's" annoyance several ladies deserted our party and fled to one of the other guides who had a soft, sweet voice.